


invading the ritual

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: ALL THE COULSON & MAY & SKYE FEELS, ALL THE COULSON & MAY FEELS, ALL THE SKYE & MAY FEELS, Angst, Coulson and May have a complicated friendship, Coulson has control issues, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, GH-325, Hand Jobs, Male-Female Friendship, May knows what's up, May loves Skye something fierce, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Alternating, Resolved Sexual Tension, Skye gets Coulson to loosen up, Skye has control issues, Skye hates lies, Spoilers, Unresolved Sexual Tension, more like emotional handjobs, not Grant Ward friendly, post 2x02 "Heavy Is The Head"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 16:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2395442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When May is here this is about being safe, about damage control. Skye is the unknown variable and it's making things so much worse.</p><p>(Post-2x02 "Heavy Is The Head")</p>
            </blockquote>





	invading the ritual

She can't imagine how she is ever going to forgive May, but she needs to know the particulars, if she is going to do this.

"A gun. Really? I'm not taking a gun."

"You have to," May tells her, orders her, whatever, she's not in the mood for the dinstinction. "Or I'm not letting you in there alone."

She takes the gun. She can pretend in front of May. It's not like she could ever pull the trigger. It's not like Coulson thinks she could, anyway. It's not like she's really fooling anyone.

"You know how to use the camera?" May asks.

Skye rolls her eyes.

 

**&**

"I _need_ to understand," she tells Coulson once they are alone in his office. He knows she might walk away for good, if he doesn't tell her everything this time. "If this is going to happen to me–"

"This is not going to happen to you," he says between his gritted teeth.

She can see his fear, what he has been scared of all these months. She understand why he had felt like he had to shut her out. He was wrong, he was so wrong. He fucked up. But she understands. Skye can find it easier to believe she might one day forgive him, when she looks at those terrified eyes.

"I need to see."

Coulson nods.

He loosens his tie.

 

**&**

It's making her sick, physically sick.

She can feel it rising from her stomach, taste it in her mouth. She though she was prepared – it couldn't be worse than she had imagined, right? – but she wasn't prepared. She almost forgets to take pictures and then taking pictures becomes the only way to stand it, the only barrier between her and what is happening in front of her. He's suffering, his hands gripping the knife until his knuckles go white. He's in pain, and Skye can't stop looking at the sweat pooling on his brow, and his eyes full of hurt, pleading with someone to let him go. It's not that he's lost control – Skye was prepared for that. It's that he hasn't _entirely_ lost control. He can feel everything that's happening to him, when he is not himself, when he's disappear inside that thing. _Everything_.

Skye can't look, can't stop looking.

She's going to be sick.

 

**&**

"Coulson, look at this."

He is putting his socks back on. They have already cleaned the office and she has excused herself and disappeared into his bathroom a moment. He knows she went to throw up, quiet as she was. 

Her voice is almost normal now, like everything is okay between them. Or maybe he is just fooling himself because he cannot accept the alternative.

"What am I seeing?" he asks when she shows him the photographs.

"They're different."

He can't tell, and the notion is upsetting. "They are?"

"Believe me, I can tell. I've been obsessing about these symbols for a month, I know them like the palm of my hand." Something about it cuts through him and Skye must have noticed his expression because she shakes her head and tries to give him a little encouraging look. "Every time there are tiny variations, nothing significant. But this time –"

"Something significant?"

"Very," she replies, pointing at the upper right corner of the image. "See the direction of these lines? The code-breakers told me to pay attention to these. The _pattern_ is different. Hugely different."

He looks away, not wanting Skye to be right, knowing she's right anyway. She's always right.

"Why do you think you draw them like this tonight?" she asks him.

His mouth goes dry.

It's you, isn't it? Coulson thinks, horror spreading through his body as he realizes. He should have never let her in. He knows it's true, she's the variable. 

"I have no idea," he lies to her once more.

 

**&**

"Let me walk you to your room," she says, sensing that the process has left Coulson tired and unsure. Skye doesn't want to admit how tired she is herself, but making sure he gets to his room without complications feels more important somehow.

"This doesn't mean I've forgiven you," she makes that clear. "Or that I'm anywhere near forgiving you."

Coulson nods, accepts it. He looks too worn out to argue. It makes her stomach twist again.

"I wish you hadn't had to see that," he tells her when they reach the door to his bunk.

Part of her wishes for that too, wishes she could erase the images from her mind.

But she needed him to let her see – even if now it hurts like hell. It's better than being treated like she was a fool, like she wasn't going to find out anyway. 

"I'm so sorry," Coulson says, and she knows he is not just talking about tonight. It's all of it, it's his lies, it's the constant fear that this might yet start happening to her.

She shakes her head, resting one hand against Coulson's chest, leaning and pressing her mouth to his.

His lips tremble under hers and he tastes of sweat.

He opens his mouth slightly to catch hers, kissing her as well.

She was not expecting Coulson to kiss back. In fact she was not expecting herself to kiss him in the first place. But seeing him carve those alien symbols, seeing him vulnerable and broken afterwards – it had made Skye question exactly why it was that she cared so much for this man, that his pain made her physically ill.

This is the answer.

"Skye. _No_."

And that is his answer. One gentle hand on her shoulder, pushing her away, rejecting her.

"Compartimentalization?" she asks.

"I think there has been a misunderstanding," Coulson tells her.

But you kissed me back, she thinks. Although it was so brief she might have imagined it.

"There has?"

"I never meant to give you the wrong impression," he says, voice tender and sweet and horrible. She feels embarrassed like a child.

"No, no, I'm sorry," she's quick to try and fix it. "My bad. It has been a long night. I don't know what I'm doing. Sir."

"Skye."

"It's okay, it's okay."

She turns around and walks away.

 

**&**

"Are you all right?" May asks her at breakfast. 

"Don't do that," Skye says, turning her face away from the other woman.

"What?"

"Pretend it wasn't such a big deal and you are my friend now."

"Grow up," May tells her. Not unkindly, but still. She tries to reach out again and Skye feels a bit bad about. But she needs to keep a bit of distance for now, if she is to keep her sanity. She spent too many years pretending shit didn't affect her, for the benefit of others. She decided she wouldn't do that again. "Skye."

"I'm finished," she says, taking the tray with her half-eaten breakfast and walking away.

She does a lot of that lately, walking away from people. Well, it's not exactly her fault. Both Coulson and May knew how she feels about being lied to.

 

**&**

"You got it out of your system?" May asks.

She sounds so short, even to herself, that it's no wonder that Phil looks up from his work, surprised at the tone. Not offended, just taken aback. He looks better today, but then again he always looks better the day after.

"That's what this was about?" he wonders out loud.

"No. It was about Skye getting it out of her system," May says. "Is she okay?"

His eyes darken. "You haven't talked to her."

"I tried at breakfast. She ignored me."

"She's still angry?" May nods. He sighs. "I'm so sorry. I gave you these orders. I never meant to get between you and Skye. You have to believe me."

May shrugs. She'd like to tell Phil she doesn't care but the truth is Skye's anger –Skye's absence in her days– stings more than she had imagined. She never had any trouble facing the consequences of her decisions, specially if they meant protecting Phil. This time shouldn't be different. It shouldn't.

"I had forgotten how complicated this whole S.O. and subordinate thing was," she says.

Phil gives her a fond look. He probably knows this has nothing to do with that, or protocol. It's not that he can talk exactly and she could throw that in his face, but it's still infuriating how well he knows her.

"How did she take it?" she asks him. The worst part of Skye not talking to her is knowing the girl is hurting and she can't help.

"She got sick, I think. Threw up."

May draws her hand over her face for a moment. "Poor Skye."

"And she kissed me," Phil adds, too casually to be anything other than alarming.

"What are you talking about?"

"She escorted me to my room and she kissed me at the door."

He tries to make a funny face at that, wiggling his eyebrows like this is amusing instead of a problem they have to deal with and soon.

" _Phil_."

She is going to kill him.

He pushes his shoulders back, an expression of honest confusion on his face.

"What is wrong with you?" May demands.

"It's okay, May, I pushed her away, it's finished. I just thought you should know, as her S.O."

As Skye's S.O. she is definitely going to have to kill Coulson if he doesn't give her a good reason not to. She's known the man to fuck up in the past, but this is a new low. 

"You pushed her away?" she raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. You don't – you don't have to worry about this. I told Skye _no_."

"In no uncertain terms?" she asks again. He nods. She knows he's telling the truth. "Good."

"But I wanted to say _yes_."

There's something horribly soft in his eyes. This would be a good moment for Phil to not be himself, May decides. And well, okay, she is not going to kill him for this, but she's not sure he can handle the fallout this time.

"Phil."

"I know, believe me, I know. That's why I came to you for advice."

That makes more sense. "So I could dissuade you."

He laces his fingers together over his desk.

"Exactly."

"Considered yourself dissuaded then," she says, meaning it. "Because Skye might be pissed at me right now but you said it yourself, I'm still her S.O. and you don't want a bullet in your kneecap."

" _Thoroughly dissuaded_ ," he agrees, smiling at her. "Thank you, May."

 

**&**

Skye is avoiding him and doing an excellent job of making it seem natural. So much that Coulson starts thinking it might only be in his head and she really is too busy.

He could confront her about it, but then he'd be the world's biggest hypocrite.

He's not entirely sure that's not what he is, already.

 

**&**

"Coulson doesn't want you in there this time," May tells her.

"Coulson has some fucking nerve."

May steps back at the swearing, but even in their strained current state of things Skye can tell she admires her anger. This is not exactly new. Skye and her S.O. share an affinity for rough edges.

A couple of weeks have passed and she is still not ready to forgive May, not completely. Specially if she and Coulson have gone back to pushing her to one side. She's barely spoken to Coulson since that night. She's still angry at him, which confusing, given the other... thing.

"It's a shitty thing he's doing to you, too, you know," Skye says, because despite it all she wants to protect May too. "Putting you in that position because he believes you're..."

"Capable?" May offers.

Skye snorts.

" _Capable_? I didn't think for a minute that you could ever, ever pull that trigger. But if that's what you both need to tell yourselves to make this work..."

She shrugs. She can tell May is disturbed by her words.

"He needs to feel safe."

"That's not it. He wants to make sure he won't hurt anyone else," Skye says. May looks a bit wrong-footed. They were must have thought she was an idiot. Of course she knows that's what Coulson is doing. "And that's not enough, not for me. Coulson has given up on himself. And you are letting him. And you're not letting me help."

May taps her fingers on the table, impatiently.

"He told me to tell you. He doesn't want you there."

"Well, he's the boss, after all."

They keep eating their breakfast in silence. Skye realizes they haven't given her a timeline. It could be tonight, it could be tomorrow night. It's awful, the realization that Coulson could be doing... that, and she could be in her bunk completely ignorant. It's awful, the realization that that was exactly what happened for months, before she found out. She feels betrayed all over again. 

She leans closer to May.

"Look, I'm still pissed at you, I want to make that clear," she says. May agrees imperceptibly, ready to listen. "The thing is – and I know I don't have to tell you this because you've been doing it from the beginning and it's not really my place to say this but... Take care of him? Please?"

May's glance softens about the edges. It's the same expression she had when, in their third week of training together, Skye told her about her nightmares.

She nods, a silent promise to Skye.

 

**&**

Shutting Skye out again is not easy, now that she knows.

May is a bit irritated that the girl still won't talk to her properly when Phil got a kiss out of this. He was the one who decided to lie to Skye, and ordered May to help with that too. She knows it was his way of sparing May of a painful decision, pretending it was all on him. He does that. But still. She has taught Skye how to put a man into unconsciousness with her hands in twelve different ways, maybe she should have taught her not to take things so personally. People lie. You lie to people you love. May is living proof of that. That doesn't mean you love them any less.

She is going to let Skye sulk some more, since she has no alternative. The girl is even more stubborn than Phil. Skye's version of sulking is overworking and she is killing herself trying to control every little detail of the missions, the repairs to the base, the tiny everyday chores. She has control issues, May discovered that about Skye on their first weeks training together and it greatly surprised her. She and Phil are too alike. It's a bad, bad idea.

 

**&**

Things go back to normal with the next episode.

The relative state of normal Coulson has to accommodate now, this is his life. It's still as hard as ever, but this is why he chose May in the first place.

"How are you feeling this time?" she asks.

He knows what that really means. How is this different from having Skye here? It is. It's much better. It's _necessary_. With Skye everything feels so full of – what is the word he's looking for? It doesn't matter. This is how it should be.

"Great."

"Sure."

"Thank you," he tells her. He's not sure he has said it before to May, because he didn't think _thank you_ could even begin to cover it, what she is doing for him, what he has asked her to do. It's not enough, a mere thank-you could never be enough, but he needs May to know how he feels.

"I know why you feel you can trust me with this, and not Skye," May argues. "And it doesn't say much of your deep abiding love for me."

Coulson smiles at her.

"But I _do have_ a deep abiding love for you," he teases.

May rolls her eyes but then lets out a sweet chuckle of disbelief. It reminds Coulson of their days in the Academy and he wonders when and how May has gone back to being that person, open and warm, without him noticing. He thinks he knows the answer.

He takes her hand in his and squeezes it for a moment. He doesn't like touching right afterwards but he senses the moment somehow warrants it.

"I did mean it," he says. "Thank you for doing this."

May gets more serious – still soft, still warm – and nods at him, accepting his inadequate gratitude.

He has known May for twenty years and they have both seen the other at their best and their worst. In part that's the reason why he feels safer with her here. And part of it is that he knows he can use her as a crutch, it's safer because she won't force him to face the facts. And she shouldn't have to. It's not Melinda May's job to save him, not even from himself. Nor is it a job she has ever wanted. There's some comfort in knowing that.

"I want you to know I'm not doing this just for you," May says.

"No?"

"Not everything is about you, Phil, as much as you'd like to think that," she tells him. "This is my team and I'm going to protect it, even from you."

"That's a good thing, May."

"And I helped cover Project TAHITI," she adds. It shocks him a bit because they never talk about it, her lies, Fury's orders, the broken state of their friendship last year. "I take responsibility for that. We are agents of SHIELD, we clean up our own messes."

"And I'm a mess?" he asks, still aiming for the easy joke between them.

"You are," May replies, and it's no joke. "But not because you carve alien symbols on the wall with a knife."

Okay, so maybe, sometimes, May also forces him to face the facts.

 

**&**

She's not sure how long until Billy realizes what a bad idea complying with her wishes is, until he gets cold feet and tells someone what she is doing. She needs to make this quick. She'd rather have some time to prepare herself, but she doesn't have the luxury. When it comes to walking in here she has never had much power of decision.

He's already in position, standing up, he must have heard her coming down the stairs.

"I wasn't expecting you today," Ward says. "Or any time soon."

No, she thinks. Last time Skye promised him that she would never come back. And she had every intention of honoring that promise. But –

"Tell me about Garrett," she says. She can't lose any time.

"What?"

Skye is practicing how to look at Ward –don't look away, don't let the bastard know he frightens you– without really looking at him, eyes glazed. It's hard to look directly at a face you see every night in your nightmares.

"Garrett. When he went nuts. What was happening to him? Talk me through it. I know about the symbols."

Ward looks confused and then his face lights up with ugly satisfaction, lips beginning to curl.

"So Coulson is finally losing it," he says, smugly, like he somehow made this happen by his pure will power. "And he sent you to me, to find out about the effects of the GH-325. I see."

Skye could almost laugh at Ward's ignorance. But then again he never knew a thing. He never knew her, and he definitely never knew Coulson. He might have studied them, found ways to manipulate them. But he never even glimpsed at who they really were.

"You know," she tells him, twisting the words in her mouth for sharpness. "I already knew you were evil, Ward, I didn't realize you were also stupid."

He thinks about her words. It gives Skye time to look at his face. It's a wrong move, she knows. Because now she has it vivid, in her mind, fodder for the nights.

"So you're here of your own accord," Ward muses. "That explains the surprise visit. And how nervous you seem. I can see the tension in the muscles of your jaw. You're afraid of getting caught. I am stupid. I should have known Coulson would never let you come down here for his sake. He loves to play the part of the martyr, you know."

Skye draws a long, impatient breath.

" _John Garrett_. Or I'm out of here."

Ward throws his hand in the air, yielding.

"The writing, the symbols, that's only the beginning," he says. "John got worse from then on."

"Worse how?"

"He started seeing things. And not just when he was out of control. All the time.Visions. He heard things, said the universe was speaking to him."

"Heard things? What does it –?"

An electric hiss and the barrier becomes opaque, she can no longer hear Ward.

"Damnit Billy," she mutters.

 

**&**

He didn't have to watch the feed of what had happened before he shut down the barrier to know, but watching the exchange only makes things worse.

"What were you thinking?" he asks Skye, without much weight. He is in no position to give her a talking to. Perhaps he has surrendered any right to act like her boss, now and in the future. He has broken things between them for good.

"I was thinking we should pursue every avenue of investigation. Don't you agree?"

She's the one angry at him, not the other way around.

She's still angry at him and Coulson tries not to think about what else she might be feeling.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, wondering exactly when this headache started, if it had been here before Skye walked into his office. If it has been here for months.

"Not like this," he says. It's bad enough he made Skye go down to see Ward to save innocent lives. He's not going to let her do that just for him.

"Do you imagine I was going to sit around doing nothing while you were in pain?" Skye asks.

"Is this because of what happened the other night?" he asks, a pang of guilt just for thinking it.

She narrows her eyes at him. "I get that you don't feel the same for me, okay? And that's just fine, but I'm still going to do anything to save you. Anything."

He couldn't have done it worse, could he.

He knows she's confused. He has confused her. He should have been more careful with her.

"Skye. You don't know what you feel."

She crosses her arms in front of her.

"I know I don't want to lose you."

"That's not a good reason to want someone."

"No, I agree it's not," she says. "But it's a pretty telling symptom."

 

**&**

Watching Fitz and Mack work in the lab soothes her a bit, actually. Anything to stop thinking about this morning. Fitz is doing much better these days and so every time Skye looks at him she doesn't have to think about how she should have let Mike kill Ward. So every time she looks at Fitz now she doesn't have to hate herself. She has missed him.

And of course seeing Ward today... it doesn't get easier. She thought it might, if she kept going down there. But it was just as awful as the first time. She was desperate today and Ward saw that. He might use it against her some day. Garrett _got worse from then on_. He wasn't lying. That's what terrifies her, that she believed him.

 

**&**

"Are you going to fire me?" Billy asks.

Coulson has to smile at his fear. Is he really that imposing or is Billy Koenig that easily impressed? He still have trouble thinking of himself as Director of SHIELD, let alone imagine that others do. With all that is happening around them maybe this is not the best time to tease Agent Koenig but he can't really help himself.

"Perhaps I should fire you."

"I'm so sorry, sir. She was really convincing."

"Should I get you Skye's file again? Read you what Ward did to her? Why she shouldn't be down there without supervision?"

The other man seems stunned and Coulson might have been harsher with his tone than he pretended.

"She said it was to help you. Is there something wrong, sir?"

It's hard to keep track of the lies and for a moment Coulson forgets that Billy doesn't know anything about this. He was in charge of the modfications Coulson asked for his office but he didn't question what they were for, he must have imagined it was standard protection for the Director.

"Forget that," he tells Koenig. "Not twenty minutes ago Skye was pleading with me not to punish you for letting her go down there. Saying she lied to you, tricked you."

"She didn't."

Coulson sighs. "I know."

"I am truly repentant," Billy says.

"I get that. But I need to know this won't happen again."

He seems to think about it for a moment. He doesn't exactly come up with the answer Coulson wants, though:

"I didn't mean to be insubordinate, Director. I have a really hard time saying _no_ to Agent Skye."

Well, join the club, Coulson thinks and something in his blood freezes.

"That seems to be going around lately," he confesses to Billy. He smiles, to let him know he's not really in trouble. "You're dismissed, Agent Koenig."

 

**&**

"I'm not angry anymore," she tells May over breakfast, after a couple of hours of icy, tense practice at the shooting range.

"I'm glad to hear that," May says, reluctant, like she suspects Skye is setting her up.

She can understand her suspicions. It's been a long couple of months.

She looks at her S.O.'s face and wants to be understood but– 

"I'm still worried that you'd do the same to me again, that things haven't really changed... You were wrong to lie to me, both of you. And I'll never go along with that I Was Following Orders bullshit, you know that, but..."

"That's not why I did it," May argues, quickly.

"You were trying to protect me. Stop trying to protect me."

The other woman shakes her head heavily. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

Skye smiles. May's fierce love for her is not something she thought she was ever going to find, in her life, but now she couldn't do without it.

"You have to convince him to let me in again."

"Skye..."

" _May_. I know you are scared for Coulson. I know you care for him. A lot. But he is going to be okay."

May looks down at her hands on the table for a moment. That's not like her at all.

"I... I wish I could believe that," she says, reluctant, the words sound like they were torn from her.

"That's okay," Skye tells her, brushing her fingers across May's wrist. She and her S.O. don't touch very often, so Skye makes it count. "I believe it enough for the three of us."

 

**&**

She can't believe she is about to say this. Coulson watches her pace around his office, alarmed by it, because May doesn't do pacing around the room.

"I think you should let Skye take the next watch," she says, eventually.

"Are you talking about –?" he gestures.

"Yes."

His eyes widen, he moves his hands in bafflement.

"I thought you agreed with me," he tells her, like a kid whose parents have gone back on a promise they made. How is this man Director of SHIELD? May doesn't mean to sound unkind about her best friend but sometimes she wonders, in all honesty, what the hell Fury was thinking.

"I did," she explains, wearily. "Things have changed."

Coulson lets out a sigh.

" _Skye_ ," he figures out, voice like an accusation, but not against May.

"She spoke to me. She asked me to be here again when it happens."

"Damnit, May. This is exactly why we didn't tell her. And now you're _agreeing_ with her?"

"Yes."

He stands up from his directorial chair, walks up to the window.

Even though she can't see his face now his back tells the whole story.

May gets up as well, goes to him, to his side, wanting to see his face anyway. His face is doing exactly what she thought it would and god he's such an open book when it comes to _this_.

"And I think you should not listen to _the other_ advice I gave you, either," she tells him.

He arches an eyebrow.

"That's some radical change of heart."

"She's really convincing."

"Yes, she is," Phil complains.

He looks out of the window again.

He looks _terrified_. That's not a look May likes on him. He's supposed to be something safe and unchanging in her life, he's the one who didn't turn away when the world betrayed her. He's supposed to be the brave one here.

At least this time he's not scared about the alien symbols or the GH-325.

This is entirely prosaic.

"Phil..."

He turns his face towards her. He's smiling his sad, lost smile.

"Come on, Melinda, you know my track record in these cases. And Skye is– And you know I'm not even remotely capable of–"

"Yes, and I've had twenty years of hindsight to realize this is different. This is new."

He walks back to his desk and falls against the chair, exhausted. No wonder, May thinks, reading his face so well: he's been fighting two unstoppable forces at the same time.

It's time to let go.

 

**&**

It takes him longer than it should, making the decision.

It takes him too long, and he's been ignoring the crawling under his skin, the pull of the images and their attack on his mind, and that particular painful itching all over his body. He's been putting it off longer than it's safe and that will make things considerably hard for himself, for Skye – because he was always going to make that decision – but he has been doing this for months. And he has been feeling like this for months.

Paralyzed.

 

**&**

"When May is here this is about being safe," Coulson explains, in a low, defeated voice. "About being in control."

She never meant to make this more difficult for him. To take that control away from him. That's the last thing she wants. She wants to help. She knows what he is afraid of.

"You're not going to hurt me," she tells him.

"No," he agrees. "But it's bad enough that the idea is there, in my mind."

"I could take you, sir."

Coulson smiles at her. "I've seen you on the mats, I know you could. But..."

"That's not enough."

Coulson tilts his head, parts his lips for a moment.

"You wouldn't pull the trigger," he points out. It's relief or blame, or both.

Skye shakes her head. "No. And I get why you needed May here, all these months, why you needed someone you think would pull the trigger. But right now you need something else."

"I do?"

"You need to know you are going to be okay," she says. Coulson fixes her a skeptical glance, but she doesn't care. He has to listen to this. "You need someone here who believes that."

She doesn't convince him of that, not yet anyway, but at least he lets her stay.

He loosens his tie.

 

**&**

She hands him a glass of water.

"How are you feeling?"

"Different."

It's better now, and he appreciates how she is quietly – almost too quietly, though – cleaning the scene while he calms down, comes down from it, sitting on the big chair behind his desk. He doesn't look or feel like a Director of SHIELD right now, the grandeur of the setting baffles him. When he opened his eyes again he almost didn't recognize his office.

He drinks a long sip of water and puts the water down with some difficulty.

"You're trembling," Skye says, going to him and rubbing his arms with her hands, massaging his shoulders. He doesn't normally like to be touched right afterwards, but he doesn't mind now. Coulson had hated the idea of Skye being here for the _ritual_ , had hated the idea of her seeing him like this. He's beginning to feel differently about it now. Something about her presence becomes soothing when he lets go.

"I'm okay."

"What does it feel like, when you are...?"

"It feels like my blood is boiling. Not like anger, like – like my body needs something and my mind doesn't know what it is."

"And now? You still feel like that?"

He shakes his head. The sweat on the back of his neck feels so cold now.

"It's better afterwards. For a while I feel – _released_ , normal. Then it starts welling up again." He notices her face. "And the photographs? Are the symbols different tonight?"

Skye steps back, taking her hands away.

"From last time? Yeah." She drops her gaze for a moment, letting silence fall. "Do you think... do you think it's because I'm here?"

The pressure in his chest intensifies. He never meant for Skye to find out how much she affects him, much less for her to have empirical proof.

"I think it might be that," he says, trying to sound neutral about it.

"Because I have the GH-325 inside me too?"

Coulson looks at her, hopeless, then shakes his head. "Maybe it's just you."

It takes Skye a moment to consider those words and Coulson thinks he might have time to take them back, make them mean something entirely different to what they really mean, distract her and change the subject. But then Skye slides her hands up his arms again and he freezes.

She leans into his chair again and kisses him.

She slides her tongue into his mouth, slowly, she's touching him so reverently.

"I'm sorry," she says, pulling away, still so close to him that he can feel her breath against his cheek. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Skye."

She raises her fingers to his mouth to shut him up, shy about it.

"It's just that the other night, when I... I could have sworn you felt something too."

He takes her hand away and Skye interprets it as further rejection, glances away from him. He raises his own hand to her hair, threading his fingers through it and tugging her against him, against his mouth.

"Yes," he says, almost kissing her already. "God, Skye, _yes_."

He draws her to him, Skye settling over him on the chair, knees to each side of him, straddling him sweetly. He doesn't normally like to be touched right afterwards but fuck, he likes this. He wants to wrap his arms around Skye's waist and pulls her closer but he keeps his hands still, clutching at the edges of the chair. He's still afraid of hurting her. He's always been afraid of hurting her.

Skye is not afraid, though.

Skye is not afraid of anything, she never is, and she kisses him with that, touching her tongue to the roof of his mouth and sucking at his lips, grabbing his head in the palms of her hands for better access. She takes her time, but she's not patient about it. Her kisses are fierce and fervent and Coulson feels himself coming apart under her mouth. This is exactly what he has been afraid of. It's not so bad when it finally happens.

She runs her hands over his chest, finding him sensitive, over his stomach, and settles her fingers over his belt.

"Skye...?" He's not sure if he is excited or apprehensive.

"Shh," she whispers. "I'll help you."

He nods a little too eagerly as she starts unbuckling him, unzipping his pants. Her hand is wonderful and warm as she wraps her fingers carefully around his cock. He's half hard already, just from all the kissing and the weight of Skye on his lap. She goes slow; long, lazy strokes as she watches his face and the little noise he makes with each movement, different every time. He throws his head back for a moment, baring his throat to her, but then he wants to see her face so badly, so desperatedly, watch her as she jerks him off.

"Feels good?" she asks, meeting his eyes unflinchingly, and it's sweet but she also sounds a bit smug and it makes Coulson smile, forget about the rest of the crap surrounding him for a moment. It might the first time this happens, that he forgets.

"Is this part of your plan to get me to _loosen up_?" he asks.

"Better than yoga. Right?"

"Definitely."

Skye chuckles against his temple. He can feel her whole body shake with it. He wants to feel more of her. He's not sure how to let her know.

It's like she can tell what he is feeling because she gets up from the chair for a moment and starts getting rid of her clothes, her pants and her underwear, bending once or twice to give him a quick, hard kiss in the process, like she is trying not to make him feel abandoned. Does the same with his clothes, freeing him with swift hands, shoving them down his knees.

She straddles him once more, close to his cock but not aiming for contact yet. He can feel how wet she is on his thigh and it makes him choke with desire and absurd gratitude. She's stroking him again, moving her hand between their bodies while she kisses the line of his jaw, twisting her wrist and listening to him groan.

He thrusts into her hand a couple of times before Skye decides to shift where she sits and speed things up. Coulson is not sure he's ready. He's sure he wants it.

Skye draws a long breath as she wraps her fingers tightly around him to keep him still.

"Is this okay?" she asks again, as she guides the tip of his cock inside her but goes no further.

Coulson feels like she is about to shatter his whole body with her weight, her warmth and her touch. But he doesn't want her to stop. He nods twice before burying his face into the lovely curve of her neck. He moans into her clavicle when Skye takes in his whole length.

"Please, Skye," he urges her to move. He hasn't had sex in so long, hasn't thought about the possibility of having sex in so long, and his body is – his body is treasonous, not to be trusted. This is dangerous, he thinks, his hips bucking up against Skye's warmth in disagreement. This is dangerous, specially tonight, how can he be so stupid.

Skye bites down on his lower lip and then smoothes her tongue over it, sucking tenderly.

He throws one arm around her, reluctant, unable to stop himself, slipping his hand under her shirt and touching the hot skin of her back. She uses his shoulders to prop herself, so she can move over him, rolling her hips gently but confidently. Coulson whimpers, moving his hands to her neck, her hair, pulling her down against him.

He presses his thumb to her lips, sliding it inside her mouth as Skye rocks her hips in the exact angle _she_ needs. He feels so fraught and raw after writing on the wall that he barely has any control over what he is feeling, no barrier for his emotions to crash against. There's only Skye, and Skye in his hands and around him and he crashes, he crashes against her.

When Skye lifts her fingers to touch his cheek he realizes they come away wet and she kisses him, swallowing his sobs.

"You're okay," she says, in a voice Coulson almost doesn't recognize, old and quiet and assured and tender and full of – what's the word he's looking for?

She moves her mouth over his neck, leaving a trail of small, soft kisses along the line of muscle, closing her mouth over his pulsepoint. He finally wraps his arms around her desperatedly, tightly, and pulls their bodies closer, as if that were possible, letting himself cry in the silence of the hollow of her neck. He's still moving against her, inside her, still reaching for her and for some form of release. Skye mutters encouragements against his skin, sensing he's on the edge, she keeps repeating, _You're okay_.

I'm okay, he thinks.

And that's not good.

This is not safe. And this is supposed to be about being safe, about damage control. 

They might have cleaned the room but he knows that they are there, the symbols, behind the panel, behind him, part of him.

This is not safe, he realizes, letting himself come inside Skye, letting her hold him in her strong arms as he rides out the aftershocks, trembling against her quiet mouth, her loud heartbeat. This is not safe, but it is full of _hope_.

Yes, that's the word he was looking for.


End file.
